


LED's

by Pyralisis



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2020-09-07 15:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20311924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyralisis/pseuds/Pyralisis
Summary: "We're not friends," I cut her off before she can say anything else, "friends listen to each other. Any friend of mine would know better. No, we're not friends. I'm just the guy you like hanging around because I make you feel better about yourself." She's speechless, as am I. I've played this out a million times in my head, so why now can I not remember anything I wanted to say?





	1. Love Equals Destiny

I’ve always wondered why we do the things we do.  
Seriously, think about it. What makes us get up in the morning, put on a fresh set of clothes, and walk out the door every single day of our lives? What’s the reason that we try and progress in life, that we value our bodies and minds so much so that we continuously train them in hopes of achieving greater goals? A foolish man would say it’s money, but an even more foolish man would say it’s something much more valuable:  
Love.  
As corny as it sounds, love is the deciding factor to the countless decisions we make and actions we take on a daily basis. And even more interesting is the fact that there’s so many different kinds of it. Naturally, you’d have the love that two people in a relationship feel towards one another, a sense of trust and comfortability that fuels the happiness between two significant others. But then there’s the kind of love between friends, bonds so strong and loyalty so fierce that it seems as if some people are just physically and mentally inseparable. There’s the love you feel for your favorite food, your pet dog, and of course, the love a parent can feel for their child.  
The thing is, when it comes to love, we don’t just feel it for other people or things, because when we feel the love that someone or something has for us, that’s a new kind of feeling entirely. To be loved, it’s that feeling that serves at motivator in everything we do. Every choice, step, and mistake are all made in attempt to chase and eventually obtain the love and validation of some outside party  
What a load of bullshit.  
Not bullshit in the sense that it isn’t true, because unfortunately for all of us, it is. But bullshit in the sense that it’s completely, utterly, and unfathomably unfair. To believe this is to believe that we spend all of our lives struggling, pushing, fighting to reach some specific fabricated state of joy, only to not even be able to truly call it real unless you have someone to share it with. This puts the entirety of mankind in a frenzy of betterment and self improvement, not for the sake of actual improvement, but for the sake of impression. All for the sake of seeing that one person, having your hands get sweaty, struggling to balance on wobbly knees, feeling your heart rate slowly accelerate until it’s just thump, thump, thump thump, thump.  
Thump.  
Thump.  
Thump.  
ThumpThumpThumpThumpThump.  
“-ing to be late!”  
It comes to my sudden attention that I’m not actually an all-knowing deity, and my eyes split open.  
My favorite part of life is the small instance that takes place between the final seconds of a dream and the first moments of consciousness. It’s in that tiny sliver of time when absolutely anything is possible. I am in full, complete control of every aspect and every outcome of the universe. The laws of physics bend to my will, and time is irrelevant. To me, it’s the very definition of paradise.  
Which is why I’m understandably irritated when my roommate Axel rips me from said paradise by violently slamming his fists on my door.  
“What do you want?” I groan at him, my voice noticeably groggy as these were my first words of the day. He pauses his unnecessarily complex rhythm of knocks when he hears me speak.  
“Dude, if you don’t get up now you’re going to be late to class,” he starts, “and there’s no way in hell I’m doing this presentation by myself, so get your ass up and go use Roxas’s shower cause I call first dibs on ours. Cool? Cool.” I start to protest until I hear him slam the bathroom door. Bastard didn’t even give me a chance to respond. Definitely not cool.  
He’s right, though, I notice the sun shining through my blinds is blaring a bit brighter than usual, so I take this time to reach over to my nightstand and grab my phone. 

MeTube: You’ve gained one new subscriber. Now  
Bistro Bois: Axel: Sorry, found your mom’s Moogle+ and lost track of time 23min ago  
Bistro Bois: Roxas: Axel hurry up or you’re not hitting this shit 31min ago  
Bistro Bois: 4 unread messages. 1hr ago  
Missed Call: Unknown number. 9:44 AM  
Moogle+: @xi_xiv has requested to follow you. 2:13 AM  
Moogle+: @got_it_memorized liked your repost. 12:24 AM

I scroll through my notifications and almost get lost in a social media trance when reality hits and I discover that it was almost eleven o’clock and Axel and I did indeed have a presentation to do at eleven thirty for our history class. I jump out of bed, mentally cursing my roommates, who obviously have been up for some time, for not waking me up earlier. I grab my towel and head out into the hallway, where I’m instantly met with Axel’s bluetooth speaker blasting from the bathroom door, muffled by the sound of running water. As loud as he is, I will say he has good taste. I make my way to the kitchen where I see not just Roxas, my other roommate-slash-best friend, but his girlfriend, Naminé, too.  
“Morning sunshine”--Roxas grins when he notices my presence and lifts up his trusty beaker bong--“care for some breakfast?” I roll my eyes at him and open the cupboard.  
“Can’t today, man. Axel and I have to talk for ten minutes about the history of these damn islands, as if everyone hasn’t heard it a thousand times already.” I sift through the items in front of me until I find my target: Frosted Paopu Flakes, my daily breakfast of choice. Just then, Axel trots into the living room wearing nothing but a towel, classy.  
“Sup, ladies,” he sees that Naminé is sitting to Roxas’s side and gives her a grin, “oh hey, didn’t see you there.” Roxas and his significant other flip him off in perfect sync. Axel laughs and instantly picks up the bong and takes an inhumanly large rip, and Roxas immediately cocks his head in my direction while giving me an expectant look, to which I just roll my eyes in response as I take a bite of my cereal. Delicious.  
By the time I’m showered and dressed, Axel’s already leaning on his horn outside. I grab my bag and throw it over my shoulder, wave goodbye to Roxas and Nam, who were now watching a painting show on TV, and swiftly make my exit into the outside realm. A quick jog downstairs leads me right to my roommate’s unnecessarily bright red convertible, and him still honking at me to get in. That, unfortunately, is the struggle of being the only kid in your high school class whose parents didn’t buy him a car, leaving your not-fully-neurally-developed teenage self to have to figure out a way to pay rent and save money at the same time on a server’s wage. But don’t worry, I’m not bitter. I mean, how could you be when you live on the one and only Destiny Islands.  
That’s right, we’re living in paradise baby. From the beautiful scenery to it’s even more beautiful inhabitants, Destiny Islands is undoubtedly the most popular tourist vacation spot in the entire world. People pile in from all over the planet, provided they have the funds, to take in the lush scenery and spend time at our world-famous beaches. There’s Disney-themed amusement parks for kids, designed specifically for the Islands, as well as island-exclusive shopping malls and outlets. Most notable of these is Starlight Square, located right at the heart of the largest island, jam packed with the nicest and most expensive brands and advertisements. Also at the center Starlight is Paopu State University, where the gang and I all attend. PSU is pretty up there in terms of tuition, so you wouldn’t be wrong to question how a kid who can’t even afford a car can attend. The answer is simple: islander discount, son. Apply that to your total and you’re looking at a nice crisp free.99 to go to school. Confused? let me explain.  
Before Destiny Islands became a worldwide paradise, it was just like any other archipelago, inhabited by it’s natives, who lived in small villages and communities around the land. There were all sorts of different tribes, some residing in the mountainous jungle regions, while others preferred to stay close to the waters by setting up shop on the coasts. Over the past century or so, as the world developed and progressed, eventually others started to migrate to the Islands, settling down, building towns and starting businesses. Destiny Islands only grew more and more popular, and thanks to it’s beautiful scenery and weather, an insane amount of migrants were piling in. Suddenly, the grass plains and dirt trails turned into concrete jungles and tourist attractions, until finally it became the Heaven-on-Earth that we know today. In order to preserve the Islands’ history, all of the old villages and tribal grounds were kept intact, with the abandoned ones being perfect for historical tours.  
The more popular Destiny Islands grew, the more expensive it became to live there, or even visit. Pretty soon, native families could barely afford to get by, and gradually started to be pushed out of the Islands, being replaced by newer, richer migrants. To the natives’ delight, new laws were put into place that essentially ensured that the cost of living would not be allowed to change for any family with native blood in them. This was mostly a business decision made by the government. The way they see it, preserving the diversity of the Islands would attract even more visitors. It worked out well, though, because me and most of the kids I grew up with are all descendants of the original native tribes. So instead of having to move somewhere like say, Traverse Town, my parents were able to afford to stay here and I get free admission to one of the best schools in the world. Not a bad deal if you ask me.  
The Islands are pretty varied, topographically speaking, with mountain ranges for hiking, some cool natural monuments and even historical tribal villages, uninhabited and preserved by the natives for tours and whatnot. There’s misty plateaus, rocky ocean cliffs, tropical coastal areas, lava deserts over by the volcanoes, and even bamboo jungles. What makes Destiny Islands special is that no matter where you come from, or who you are, there’s something for everyone, and anyone can call it home.  
I look up from my note card only for my eyes to be met with 23 other pairs staring straight back at me. One kid even starts clapping for a second before he realizes that the presentation’s only half over and that Axel still needs to talk about the Islands’ future endeavors. I exhale slightly and relax my posture a bit. There was a bead of sweat beginning to take shape on my temple. I never did like doing presentations in front of the class, so glad that’s over. Take it home, Axel.  
“Thank you, Sora, for that Oscar-worthy performance. Now that we’re done with boring history stuff, let’s talk about the cool new tech-y shit.” The professor gives him a hard glare for his colorful vocabulary and Axel winks back at her in reply before continuing.  
I focus my gaze on a random spot on the back wall of the room, and lose myself in my own mind. My mind suddenly floods with thoughts and memories and potential scenarios. As you just heard, I am Sora. I grew up right here along with my best friends in the entire world. Growing up, we were never the more “popular” gang in town, but we all had each other. We’d have sleepovers, wilderness adventures, mischievous mishaps, deep late night conversations until the break of dawn, the whole shebang. The six of us have always been inseparable, and without them, I’d be nothing.  
Despite this, though, I’ve still always felt like somewhat of a loner.  
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve made plenty of friends and acquaintances, but throughout the years, especially throughout school, it seemed like everyone around me always had that one person, the one they would hold dear above everyone else, and who also held them on the same pedestal. Whether it was two best friends or a couple, everyone had someone who they cared about to the exact same degree that they cared about them.  
I, on the other hand, did not.  
It always felt like I cared about those around me so much more than they did me. Sort of like parents having a favorite child. You know they love you, but you also know that they love someone else just a bit more. I was never anyone’s number one, but I was plenty of people’s number three. It’s an odd feeling to experience.  
Because of this, growing up I always had these internal self esteem issues. My mind was always occupied with thoughts of my significance to other people. I wanted to be important to them, but as a kid, I was too shy to ask them what they thought of me. I decided to figure it out myself, and over the years, I studied Psychology books and read up on behavioral patterns to the point where I analyze every single movement, facial cue, and nervous tick that someone shows and am able to determine their thoughts and emotions from it.  
Now, hold on, I know this all sounds serial-killer crazy, but it’s not as hard as it sounds. A lot of kids are loud and obnoxious when around their peers, but not me. I was quiet and peaceful, and with serenity like that comes observation. I used those around me as research subjects, carefully taking note of their mannerisms as well as their speech and movement patterns. It didn’t hurt that Psychology had already interested me from the get-go, so most of this stuff just came naturally to me. After a while it wasn’t hard to tell where a conversation was going to go, when people were lying, or how to predict the outcome of a situation. I was pretty accurate most of the time, to even my own surprise.  
Even though I didn’t think much of myself as a kid, over time, with the help of those close to me, I learned to accept who I am and even love myself as a person. Not in any narcissistic, obnoxious way, but enough to be confident enough to speak my mind at all times.  
I snap back to reality from the depths of my own thoughts and come to the realization that I was back in Axel’s car, which has now been turned off, as he hops out of the driver’s seat. Huh, I guess time really does fly by when you don’t really care to pay attention to anyone else’s presentations.  
I open the door and step out of his red convertible, and half a block later I arrive to the stone steps of my apartment building. I’m just about ready to hop upstairs and take a well needed nap when I realize my path is obstructed by a body perched right on the second stone step. Her auburn hair falls straight and neat just below her shoulders. Wearing these pink high-waisted shorts with a white tank top tucked in with a purple belt to top it off, she completes a simple outfit made to highlight a face and a body that drove practically every guy she met wild. Her perfectly proportioned head shoots up from her perfectly pristine phone to reveal her perfectly purple eyes locking right onto mine. Remember when I said I never had that one person like everyone else did?  
All of that changed when I met Kairi.  
We hit it off instantly, our personalities just matched together like a key and a lock. From one fateful day in high school, through every heartbreak, every parental argument, every crazy illegal adventure, and every 3AM inebriated conversation outside of my childhood house, we were there for each other. She’s the one person who can read me just as easily as I do her. To put it simply, she is my absolute best friend. Which is why my mood instantly skyrockets when I see her outside the apartment.  
“Ugh, finally,” she bounces up from her makeshift seat, “I rang the buzzer and texted Roxas and Nam like a million times, either they’re dead or they’re not home.” Funny, I don’t remember Roxas having any plans today.  
“Come on, Kairi, use your brain,” Axel starts as she gives him a hug, “they’re obviously going at it furiously, you think they have time for your texts?” She rolls his eyes at him and turns her attention to me. A split second later my nose is flooded with the scent of what can only be the equivalent of an Edible Arrangement hidden inside of her hair as she wraps her arms around me in excitement.  
“Aw, that’s nice,” I inhale dramatically, “is that Guava? Or maybe Blood Orange?” she pulls away and squints her eyes at me, her eyebrows furrowed.  
“Very funny. Strawberry-Peach, for your information.”  
“Oh, good. I’ll be sure to write it down in case I ever need to smell like the produce section.” She punches my arm and follows Axel into the building as I trail behind. Good old Kairi.  
“Hurry up, children,” Axel calls from the second floor, “I wanna catch mommy and daddy in the act. That shit’ll go viral!”  
“Oh please, you act like that type of thing is hard to come by on the internet.” Kairi and I catch up to him on the fourth floor and he puts his hand on my shoulder, giving me the most serious look I’ve ever seen him have.  
“You underestimate the power of perverted creeps.” I stifle a laugh and remove his hand with my own, turning my attention to the door and unlocking it. My friends follow me inside and I brace myself for the worst. Naturally, it’s not what I see when I walk into my apartment that first catches my attention, it’s actually what I smell, but what I smell is not exactly what I expected.  
Fire.  
My kitchen is on fucking fire.


	2. Love Equals Destruction

Okay, maybe not on fire, but a fire was present nonetheless.   
“Damn, Roxas, the hell did you do?” Axel yelled between coughs. There’s so much smoke flying out of the kitchen I can barely see five feet in front of me. An intense amount of heat being trapped in the apartment almost immediately gets me sweating. This is the exact opposite of good, but I have to do something or I’m gonna be living on the streets, or worse: back at home. I place my hand on the wall to the right and follow it until I reach the doorway for the kitchen, then make a quick dash for the cupboard under the sink and swing it open.   
You’ve gotta be kidding me. I leave for one class and my home becomes ground zero for a goddamn arson. There must be a gas leak somewhere, or maybe a candle was left burning too long. I don’t really have time to speculate, so I’ll just hold off until I find what I’m looking for. I rummage through random bottles of cleaning agents until I locate my target. The cold metallic surface tells me I’ve hit the jackpot, and I whip out the fire extinguisher. By now the smoke is so thick I can’t even tell where the source is coming from. I try my hardest to strain my eyes in an attempt to see something--anything--to no avail. It’s an odd sensation to have your eyes completely open yet still see just a wall of black as if they were closed. Looks like I’ll have to rely on an audio-focused approach, but it looks like I’ve lost all contact with my two friends. I call for them, but only get a muffled response from Axel which is promptly cut off by a quick yelp. From my location in the kitchen I can tell exactly where in the apartment he is. He must’ve tripped on the bean bag chair.  
“Sora, I found the window!” Okay, so at least Kairi’s alright. The window is on the other side of the living room, behind the couch. I hear her open it, but the ventilation barely makes a dent in the density of the smoke surrounding us. I don’t really feel like blowing up today, so it’s now or never. I pull the pin from the fire extinguisher and grab the hose. The scorching heat of the apartment starts to get unbearable and every breath I take just empties and fills my lungs with the same black smoke. Seeing as how I have absolutely no idea where the fire’s located, I conclude that there was only one option for me, so I position myself with my back against the kitchen sink counter, and pivot my upper body directly to my left, keeping my feet planted forwards.  
I aim the hose in the direction I’m facing and squeeze the handle, almost immediately feeling a cooling breeze from the nitrogen propelling the extinguishing agent. I spray in a vertical zig-zag while slowly turning myself from left to right and back again until the dry powder being expelled starts to clear the smoke that’s blocking my vision. Amidst the chaos, I finally catch a glimpse of my target, an orange flame flickering in the right corner of the kitchen before being consumed by smoke once again. Shit, that’s where the stove is. Could someone have left it on?  
Taking a step forward, I try my best to aim at where I last saw the fire, and squeeze the handle of the fire extinguisher once more. It’s significantly lighter than when I first grabbed it, a sign that the tank is soon to be empty. This is my only shot, so I take another step forward, sensing the heat of the fire intensify even greater, and let loose with everything I’ve got. A few seconds later, the hose in my hand sputters it’s last breath, and I begin to panic for a moment, until the heat suddenly doesn’t feel so hot anymore. I squeeze the handle one last time for good measure, but only the remaining bit of nitrogen gas comes out. Luckily, I don’t feel any sort of direct heat source in front of me, so I set the fire extinguisher down and plop myself down onto the ground to catch my breath.   
It’s one thing for a freak accident to take place in my apartment, but as the smoke finally begins to clear, I see that what happened was no mistake. The oven, or at least the melted mound of metal that used to be the oven, tells the real story. Walking to the other side of the kitchen, I start to choke on the smell of burnt food, but I brace myself and after grabbing an oven mit, pry open the door. Melted plastic stretches between the oven and the door like mozzarella cheese. Nasty.   
I look inside as the last bit of smoke escapes the interior, and see a tray of what looks to be burning hot coals, still glowing red from the heat, ready to ignite again at any moment.   
Cookies.  
This man Roxas almost destroyed our kitchen for cookies.   
“Are you okay?” I hear Kairi calling out from the window. I turn around and see her fanning the last of the smoke out of the window.  
“Yeah, I’m good. Can’t say the same about Roxas in a few minutes, though.” Closing the oven door, I exit the kitchen and see Axel, who didn’t even bother getting up from the bean bag he tripped over. The couch, which is also the last known location of my third roommate, was empty, but the TV was still on, despite whatever program that was playing having ended and a “Are you still here?” prompt taking up the display.   
“If you’re gonna kill him, can I at least have his room?”   
“Yeah, and Kairi can have mine when I’m put in jail for premeditated murder.” I’m only joking, but still, I demand answers, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get them. I turn towards the small nook in the corner of the living room, where the door to the master bedroom was located. Marching over there, I’m fully prepared to let loose on my roommate, but even though I practically kick the door down with all my wrath, fully expecting and intending to scare the shit out of him, reality shows me a sleeping blonde boy and his equally blonde sleeping girlfriend passed out on the bed. Their arms and legs were such a tangled mess of limbs that the unified form looked like a mutant monstrosity. How anyone would be able to sleep intertwined with another person like that, I’ll never understand.   
In an instant, all the rage and fury I felt in the last two minutes faded away, and instead were replaced with bewilderment, slight amusement, and just plain annoyance. I’ve known Roxas my entire life, and if there’s one thing I know about him, it’s that when he gets even the slightest bit tired, he checks out. It doesn’t matter what he has to do or where he has to be at any time, once that first yawn hits him, there’s no stopping it. That’s why it’s always important to keep watch out for the signs.   
First and foremost, he stops talking, engaging in whatever conversation that’s going on less and less. Then, he’ll make a beeline for the most comfortable position possible, which usually turns out to be him laying down on a couch, or, if we’re in public, he’ll find the nearest flat surface and curl up on it like a newborn baby. Finally, once he’s assumed the position, comes the final nail in the coffin: a blanket. Whether it’s the comforter from his bed or just somebody’s hoodie, he’ll get himself cozy and then he’s out like a light. A true american tragedy.   
I stare blankly across the room at my snoring roommate and his girlfriend before turning around to meet the gaze of my other two friends, each giving me a nervous look, anticipating my next actions. I walked around them and grabbed a pillow from the couch and returned to the doorway. Taking aim, I cocked my arm back and sent the pillow spiraling right towards his blonde mess of spikes. Bullseye.  
Despite the force of the blow, his eyes barely split open a centimeter’s width. Slowly, he starts regaining more and more consciousness, his irises dragging themselves around to scan the room until they meet mine in the doorway. I see his eyes motion to the two bodies behind me, and I can tell he has no idea what’s going on. Staring at him intently, I wait for him to get it, and it shouldn’t take long, considering anyone with a brain could realize something was off in that apartment. To my surprise, and annoyance, his eyelids start drooping back towards a closed position, but before I can say anything, they shoot wide open and he springs up from the bed in an instant.  
“Oh, FUCK!” There it is.   
Roxas sprints across the room at full speed, waking Naminé up in the process, and almost running Axel, Kairi, and I straight over.   
“OhFuckOhFuckOhFuckOhFuuuuuuuck!” he grabs the corner of the doorway and flings himself towards the kitchen, practically sliding on his knees towards the oven like a soccer player. To be honest I’ve never seen someone move so swiftly after just waking up a second prior.   
“YOOOO! No way!” I hear him call from the kitchen. The other occupants of the apartment and I met him in front of the oven, where he was kneeling down in defeat. “I..we.. we were only supposed to watch one episode..” he had on oven mittens and was cradling the tray of black lumps like it was his firstborn child.   
“I told you we should’ve stayed on the couch, Roxas” Naminé said, gently placing her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to console him.   
“Well, Roxy, when you’re done crying over spilled milk or burnt cookies or whatever,” Axel started to my left, “you can start looking at replacement ovens online, cause if I don’t get to eat lasagna on Friday I just might spaz.” That’s true, if we don’t have an oven, then I can’t make the lasagna for Family Dinner, a tradition we’ve been surprisingly keeping up with consistently since we moved in. Though, if I’m being completely honest, I’m not too bent out of shape about it. Less work for me, really.   
“Axel,” Roxas stands up and places the tray he was previously holding on the counter, “you don’t understand. These weren’t just any cookies.” Axel, already halfway to the living room, stops dead in his tracks.   
“Wait…you don’t mean?”  
“I do.” Axel lets himself fall forwards and faceplant right into the couch, all the while yelling in agony, like he just received news that he’d lost a family member.   
So, in conclusion, not only did Roxas almost burn down the apartment today, but he also lost us an entire batch of edibles. Talk about rubbing salt in the wound. 

I swing the door shut behind me as I enter my room and head to the window to shut the curtains. It’s almost pitch black, but the sun blaring into the window causes the curtains to glow a bit, and my eyes adjust to the darkness fairly quickly. I sit down at my desk, to the right of the bed, and grab a small rectangular remote. It’s got tons of buttons of all types of colors, most of which I have no idea what the functions are, but that’s okay, because all I need is one. I tap the button in the bottom right corner and my room is filled with light as the LED strips lining the ceiling spring to life. First blue, then purple, then pink, then red. More colors follow until they return to blue and repeat again. It really does give the room a whole different vibe. Before I have the chance to do anything else, my leg starts vibrating. I flick my phone out of my pocket and check out the display.

INCOMING CALL: Unknown Number

That’s odd. Counting the one from this morning, this is the second call today that I’ve got from some random person. It could be a telemarketer, but they usually max out at one per day. Could someone be trying to prank me? I can’t really think of anyone who’d be juvenile enough to try crank calling, though I guess Axel’s not one hundred percent out of the realm of possibility. Realistically, someone might just be trying to contact me while also trying to keep their identity a secret. Or maybe they just know I wouldn’t pick up if I knew who they--

Wait. There’s no way.

A chill runs down my spine ever so slightly, and a lump begins to form in my throat, but just before I can realize where this train of thought is making it’s first stop, my door swings open and my best friend practically jumps from the doorframe to my bed in one leap.   
“So, ignoring the fact that we almost just died, that was pretty fun, wasn’t it?” Kairi asks as she adjusts herself to sit cross-legged facing me on the chair, and with a tone so cheerful you’d never think anything even happened.   
“Normally,” I start to reply, “I’d say that you’re absolutely insane. But, in all honesty, yeah it was pretty fun.” She laughs in response. “It’s true! it was like my body went into autopilot. I didn’t even have time to think about what I was going to do before I did it. I guess this is the closest thing to what it feels like to be a superhero.”   
“Yeah? Well, don’t let it get to your head mister. We don’t need you dying on us because you thought you could single-handedly put out a fire at work.” Oh please, I’m not that stupid. It was then and only then that I remembered that I had a job. A good job that I was obligated to show up to at the times that I was scheduled.   
“Oh shit, I completely forgot that I have work at five today.” I sit up in the chair in disbelief. It’s always such a sad feeling to remember that you don’t have the day off.   
“No way, you’re going to leave me here with the guy who almost burned us alive, and the guy who’s most likely to do it again?”   
“Would it help if I said I’m trusting you to make sure they don’t?” She lets out a giggle.   
“Relax, I got other stuff I gotta do today anyways, but we can still hang out when you’re off!” If I don’t die putting out anymore fires, that is.   
“And what sort of ‘stuff’ are we talking here?” I ask her, raising an eyebrow to stress my curiosity.   
“That,” she begins before hopping off the bed and flicking my nose, “is none of your business.” She doesn’t want to tell me? That’s pretty rare. Usually she’d sink into a ten minute rant about the person she was hanging out with, and how she dreaded going because of some shitty thing the other person did to her previously. The fact that she chooses now to keep quiet may seem like nothing out of the ordinary for anyone else, but they’re not me. Still, if I she’s going to the effort of keeping it a secret, I can’t just straight up ask her again. When the opportunity presents itself is when I’ll be able to figure it out, but until then I decide to let it go.   
The conversation continues and inevitably spirals out into an array of different stories and topics. For the most part, there’s always a certain point when hanging out with a friend at which you come to a certain realization, which usually sounds like “Hey, my time with this individual has come to an end, it’s just about time to part ways. How the hell do I get out of here?”, after which you’ll spend the next fifteen to twenty minutes trying to come up with a valid excuse or elaborate emergency story so as to not hurt said individual’s feelings about leaving so suddenly. And, for the most part, your excuse is believable, but there’s always those times where your brain malfunctions and you can’t come up with a plausible lie. In that moment you’ll spaz and say something completely stupid and unrealistic, with some slight stuttering added in for less believablility, at which point the energy in the room just becomes too awkward to handle and you leave without saying anything further.   
Luckily, with Kairi, this was never the case. I never get tired of hearing her talk about whatever it is she wants to talk about that day. If you think about it, that just might be why our personalities sync so easily. Being in college and working in service means I’m always emitting a sort of social energy in order to keep up with the world, but when it’s just Kairi and I, I can actually relax, if only for just a minute, and it truly is a great feeling. 

The lights at Starlight Square are legendary, known and praised around the globe.

That’s what social media would lead you to believe, anyways. It’s a decades-old light show that plays around the clock, featuring an array of LED lights scattered all throughout the 300 acre area, humbly named a “Square” but resembling more along the lines of a small town (hell, if there was a rollercoaster you could probably call it a theme park). Some of the lights are big, some small, some fixed into specific spots on the ground, and plenty that were attached to random things like building walls, trees, park benches, and trash cans. There has to be hundreds of millions, and they’re the subject of I’d say ninety five percent of all Moogle+ posts. Tourists can’t get enough of it, or maybe they just want to flex on their followers, as if they haven’t seen it already.   
For a native, it’s like posting a video of fireworks on New Year’s. You can see it a million times, but after that million and first watch, it understandably becomes unbearable, unless you’re under the influence of something, which is why everyone who lives here on the Islands avoids Starlight Square like the plague. Or at least try to, because with the PSU campus residing in Starlight, college students don’t have much other choice on where to find a job, and it truly is unfortunate that the bistro that I am currently employed at, Little Chef’s, is located right here in the Square.   
Having just freshly tightened the knot of my apron, I open the door of the bistro and step inside, instantly surrounded with the inviting, overwhelming scents that are leaking from the kitchen. I step into the lobby-slash-waiting-area and bend over slightly to check my reflection in the marble tiles that encompass the floor of the entire restaurant. After making sure my hair isn’t tweaking any more than usual, I make my way forward to the front desk.   
“How are you always exactly three minutes late for every shift?” Rikku. The head of my hostess coworker pops up from behind the computer screen, first revealing a dark blue headband holding most of her long, blonde hair back, while a few braided strands dangle on either side of her face, each featuring a different colored bead. She always had some new, crazy way to wear her hair, and her sense of fashion is as impeccable as it gets. She can pull off anything and everything, which is easy for her since she’s quite the looker. She cocks her head to the side and raises an eyebrow at me.   
“Relax,” I say as I type my employee code into the computer and clock in, “If I didn’t drive like I do, I would’ve been ten minutes late.” Normally I’d feel a hint of remorse for driving Roxas’s car like I did on the way over, but he has no room to be mad right now.   
Rikku looks like she’s about to say something sarcastic, but a couple walks through the entrance and she turns her attention away from me to greet them. I take that as a cue to make my exit to the back of the bistro, where the server station is located. Turning the corner, I all but crash into a brick wall, or at least something equally as sturdy. I take a step back and am greeted by my fellow server and oldest friend, Riku. Despite the fact that their names are spelled differently, Riku and Rikku are pronounced exactly the same, which makes for some pretty amusing mixups in the workplace.   
“Dude, we should’ve called out sick today. It’s slow as hell and if I don’t start making money soon I’m gonna take a nap in the walk-in.” I follow him into the server station as he begins ranting about the events of the last hour and starts cutting lettuce.   
“It’s only five, Riku,” I remind him as I start doing my own sidework, “I want to hear you say that again once we hit the dinner rush in two hours.” he lets out a laugh.   
Riku is the epitome of the highschool “every girl wants him, every guy wants to be him” cliche. Growing up, he was able to get through just about every obstacle in life relying on his charisma and friendliness alone, though that never stopped him from working his hardest at everything he did. His well-toned body, paler-than-normal skin, and long, silver hair ensured that every girl who’s ever read a teen vampire novel flocked to him in droves. Even with all of his privilege, Riku’s always been one of the most down-to-earth people I’ve ever known, as well as my most trusted advisor throughout the turmoils of adolescence.   
The night chugs along at a steady pace, with Rikku assigning us tables here and then. After you serve for a while, eventually it all just becomes a sort of second nature to you. Sometimes you’ll think you forgot a salad only to find out you made it ten minutes prior. It’s not a terribly difficult job, and the money’s pretty good too, although how much you make depends entirely on the generosity of your customers. It’s a good gig, and the people I work with are all great people.   
“Wait, wait, you’re saying a batch of cookies almost destroyed your kitchen?” Riku asks for the third time in disbelief.   
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Not a freak accident, not a blown fuse or malfunctioning appliance. Fucking. Cookies.” we bust out laughing at the same time. Even though it was just a few hours ago, it gets more ridiculous every time you think about it.  
“If Roxas tried anything like that when he lived with me I would’ve had to end his life.” Riku declares as he swings a large knife down onto a lemon, demonstrating his point.   
“You’d think Naminé would keep him in check, but nah. They’re both practically the same person. It really makes you wond-”  
“Sora?” I swing my head to the right and see Rikku poking her head over the wall separating the server section from the main dining room. She must be standing on the tips of her toes. “You have a couple at thirty three.”   
“Great, thanks Rikku.” She smiles and turns to head back to the front desk. Tonight isn’t as busy as I was expecting, which I can say I’m honestly relieved about. Not getting swamped with a million things to do but still making good money? Now that’s the dream. I quickly finish my conversation with Riku and grab two appetizer plates before exiting the server station. Table thirty three is located in the secondary dining room, so I take a short path leading to an open doorway and turn the corner. I take a moment to go over my lines in my head, because it’s more likely than not a couple of older tourists, which means I can recommend the most expensive dish on the menu and they’re sure to order it. I turn one last corner, ready to say the same greeting I’ve said hundreds of times, but stop dead in my tracks when I realize who’s sitting at the table.   
Suddenly my body starts moving on its own, independent of any sort of signal my brain was sending it. Not that it would matter, since my brain has gone completely static. My legs carry me all the way back to the server station, back to Riku, who I almost crash into on the way in. I was moving faster than I thought.  
“Damn dude, what’s the matter with you? You look paler than me.” I want to respond, but my body says otherwise. I walk over to the sink and furiously wash my hands, all the while my mind starts racing at a million miles a minute.  
Why?

WHY?

What the hell is she doing here?


	3. Love Equals Debacle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s times like these when I have no choice but to face whatever the universe throws at me head-on.

This is _not fucking happening._

Never, not once in my life, did I expect anything even remotely like this to take place. I had repressed any sort of thought about this to the furthest depths of my brain so long ago that having it brought back to the forefront of my mind is frying any sort of cognitive function I had left. For a second there, I thought I forgot how to breathe as well. Luckily I remembered before I fainted, but the jury's still out on that one.

"Bro, are you good?" Riku's standing right next to me, but his voice sounds like it's coming from another room. I can't even hear myself think, let alone someone trying to talk to me. When he realizes that I'm unable to answer the phone right now, he raises his head to look over the wall of the server section, scanning around to try and find the source of whatever I was tweaking about. He steps out into the walkway and peeks around one corner. He must not have seen much, because he turns around and decides to look around another corner. The corner leading to the section that contained table thirty three.

Table thirty fuckin' three.

I slap some water on my face and start to calm down a bit. The door swings open and Riku walks in again with an oddly cautious look on his face.

"Holy shit, man," he starts, his voice sounding much more normal than it did a minute ago, "that's actually insane. When did she get back?" More like _why _did she come back, really.

"I don't know. I really don't know. Shit, why'd she have to come here of all places, this is like top five most popular restaurants in Starlight." This place is crawling with tourists on the daily, most people steer clear if they know what's good for them.

"I think you just answered your own question there, buddy." I can tell Riku is fighting a smile. Sure, dude, go ahead and laugh at my misery. The universe is doing the exact same thing. I take a deep breath.

"Listen, can you just take them for me? I'll just take the next table you get." This is not something I want to deal with right now, though mentally, I'm not sure I could even if I tried.

Before Riku has the chance to accept, the server station welcomes yet another employee, this time in the form of a pink-haired woman: small, slim and beautiful, with pale aqua eyes that seem to pierce into my fucking soul.

"Sora," she begins calmly, "what's taking you so long? Thirty three just asked me where you are." She's asking for me? Why is she asking for me? Not good.

"Actually, Claire, Riku here was just asking me if he could take the table. See, he needs money for rent this week." Her eyes narrow and sharpen, darting back and forth between Riku and I. Glancing to my left, I see Riku try to pull off the worst nonchalant smile I've ever seen, furiously nodding his head in assurance. I mentally facepalm.

"Well, ignoring the fact that Riku still lives at home, that option is out the window now. They specifically asked me about you, which means they know you're their server." Shit, when I approached their table my body moved so quickly I didn't have time to note if they saw me or not. This couldn't possibly get any worse. "We have standards here, which means once you start a table, you can't pawn it off to someone else. I'm sorry, but it's out of my hands." she finishes. I inhale as deep as I possibly can, and adjust my apron.

"Sure thing. Thanks, Lightning." Her eyes widen and I catch myself. "Claire! I meant thank you, Claire!" She loosens up, tells me to get a move on, and leaves the station. That was a close one. My boss, Claire Farron, is one of the nicest people I'll probably ever meet in my lifetime, but she has a mean temper. A temper that, once lost, transforms her into practically another human being, and trust me, you don't want to be on the receiving end of that rage. Peculiar characteristics like this earned her the nickname Lightning, but few, if any, are allowed to use it. Lightning is destructive and unpredictable, but beautiful and mysterious all the same. Am I talking about electrostatic discharge or my manager? Exactly.

There's no way out, I'm completely, utterly, and terrifyingly out of options. Of course, I could always just quit my job and walk out right now, but that would just do more harm than good. As I make my way back to this godforsaken table, seemingly in slow motion, a bead of sweat starts to perspire on my right temple. I had no idea what to expect, for all I know this could very well be my last day on Earth at this rate. Glancing over towards the front desk, I see Rikku watching me walk, and when our eyes meet she smiles sympathetically and gives me a thumbs up. As if luck could save me now.

It feels like my feet weigh sixty pounds each, and every step I take increases gravity exponentially. I tune into my surroundings and notice _No Other Heart _by Mac DeMarco is playing on the radio, probably due to one of my coworkers controlling the sound system. The table comes into my view, and I finally get a good look at her. Her hair's a bit shorter than I remember, but just as dark, if not darker. The closer I get, the faster my heart rate rises, until I'm so close I feel like I could have a stroke at any moment. It's insane to think there was a time before I had even said a word to her. She's just as beautiful as ever, her eyes an icy shade of blue, but still eliciting that warm, inviting feeling all the same. I can't see the dude's face, just the back of his head, covered in hair as black as hers and just as much of a crazy mess of spikes as mine. He must be a local, because only islander genes can produce hair like that. Before I know it, I'm standing in front of the pair, except it doesn't feel like I'm standing at all. Time, which until now was moving at a snail's pace, suddenly bursts forward to catch up with the present, and instantly I feel weightless. Similar to the sensation of falling from a high distance, but more along the lines of floating through the vacuum of space. I'm hoping I don't fall over or pass out or anything, but I have no cognitive connection to my appendages, so it's really anyone's ballgame. I approach with my notebook covering my face and my hand raised with a pen to it. I know I look ridiculous, but I'll take any sort of last ditch effort to save my ass.

"Hey guys, how are we doing?" I don't give them any time to respond before I continue. "I'm good, thanks for asking. What can I get you guys to drink? Water? Great! I'll be-"

"Sora, I know that's you," the sound of her voice alone sends seventeen chills throughout my skeletal system. I say it with one hundred and fifty percent honesty when I say I'd rather be jumping out of a plane right now, sans parachute. I slowly lower my notebook and meet four eyes staring right back at me, the two on the left expressing a quizzical look while the two on the right are hesitant. Those are her eyes.

"Hey! I didn't even notice you were here!" I attempt to grin as wide as I can, hoping she doesn't notice my uncomfort.

"Then why did you turn and run away as soon as you saw us five minutes ago?" Well, there goes that. My mind races far too fast for me to keep up, trying to conjur a believable story. Of course, now, in this exact moment, is one of those rare times I mentioned before, in which my brain is now malfunctioning and can't come up with a plausible lie.

"Oh..I forgot my, uh, my pen." What the actual fuck was that? She squints her eyes and direct them to my apron, which is decorated with an assortment of multicolored pens. I feel like I'm going to explode. "Anyways," I continue, "You guys were good with water, right? I'll just go get those for you."

"How have you been?" Okay, just go ahead and ignore my question I guess.

"Oh, you know, I've just been..chilling.." Chilling? Gross. She gives me a blank stare. I don't know what to say, but I have to think of something quick, because it's literally my job. I'm slowly coming to grips with the fact that I can't get out of this situation, so instead, my brain finally starts working for what feels like the first time in a decade. "And you? I didn't know you were back in town. Visiting family?" My words come out less shaky than my response before. She visibly notices, or maybe it's just my imagination.

"Yeah, actually. I know it hasn't been that long but everything looks so different!" As the words escape her lips, it's like all of the lights inside the bistro fade to black, until I'm standing alone in a pitch dark void, staring at the person in front of me, and a huge, bright, beaming spotlight shines right on her in the booth, as if she was about to read at a poetry circle. "I guess a place like this has to keep changing to keep up with the trends, right?"

I try my hardest to engage in the conversation, but while my body is here at work, my mind disappears into another place. A place I had long since forgotten and hoped would stay that way for the rest of my life. Days, memories, and settings flicker by behind my eyes in a sort of VHS tape-like fashion. Yikes. Sure I've come to terms with the situation, but I need to keep my interactions to a minimum, meaning no more small talk. I just need to serve them and get them out of here. She asks me about school, and how I'm enjoying college and the freedom it comes with. I hate talking about school, so my answers are limited.

"Actually," she continues, "Another reason I'm here is because-"

"I'll have a water."

Suddenly, all of the lights in the restaurant spring back to life, almost blinding me in the process. I almost forgot she wasn't here alone. I struggle to tear my eyes away from the anomaly in front of me and almost choke on my own spit when I realize who is sitting adjacent to her.

Zack Fair.

My hands grip my notebook and pen abnormally tight. She must have forgotten he was here too, because her eyes widen a bit and she looks at him and then back at me, becoming visibly uncomfortable, if only slightly. I don't even know why I'm surprised to see him. It makes sense, but I guess his face alone just brings up bad memories. It's funny, because we've actually had extremely few face to face interactions before, but that doesn't make me hate him any less. I have to remind myself of where I am, and relax my hands. My jaw, which I didn't even realize was clenched, loosens up.

He flips his head, and the hair in front of his eyes swings to the side. I resist the urge to gag. His face is expressionless. Obviously, given our history, he doesn't like me, like at all. In fact, he probably hates me more than I hate him.

Nah. Impossible.

Still, he does a good job at showing exactly zero percent emotion. He's just staring at me, waiting for me to slip up and do something stupid. I won't give him the satisfaction. Our eyes are locked for what feels like an eternity, with only the ambiance of the talking customers and an unknown hip hop song playing on the speaker as the soundtrack to this moment. Finally, she breaks the painful silence by speaking up.

"Water sounds good for me, too." She says softly, with a weak smile. I recall where I am in my life's timeline and remember that I don't want to be talking to either of the people in front of me, so I nod and start walking back to the server station, checking on my other tables on the way.

I'm hit with a wave of relief as I return to the safe haven that is the server station, and I take a second to pour myself a glass of water and gulp the whole thing down. I see Riku conversing with another coworker of mine, Hayner. They take notice of my entrance, and Riku turns his attention to me, probably eager to hear about what happened.

"So, how'd it go?" His earnest expression tells me he really wants to know, even if it's only to get in on the drama.

"Well," I start, "I honestly don't know. This is something I could never have hoped to be prepared for. I don't know what to do." It's true, how do I even go about talking to them, let alone forcing myself to be nice for the sake of my job? It's one thing to run into someone on the street, sure maybe you'll exchange awkward pleasantries, but then you can be on your merry way, in a matter of seconds if you want to! But this? This is like my own personal hell. I grab the drinks I so graciously poured and put them on a tray.

"Here's your strategy," Riku begins, fulfilling his role as my go-to advice giver, "you just gotta act like you're doing great, so great that you literally forgot she even existed." The scary part is that I'm pretty sure I _did _forget she existed, but almost on purpose.

"I can barely get four words out of my mouth without messing up, how the hell do you expect me to do that?"

"Just focus. You can do this, man. I believe in you." How touching. "You're gonna need to make it believable. Don't worry, I have a plan." A plan? Why is my life turning more into a Disney Channel sitcom by the minute?

"What is it? The plan, I mean."

"If I tell you, you'll shut it down." Even more reason for you to tell me, Riku. I'm not looking to embarrass myself more than I already have. His advice isn't exactly profound this time around, hell I'd even go so far as to call it cliche, but I've got nothing else. Looks like this is how we're playing it.

"Just go over there and do your thing," he instructs me, "and _whatever_ happens, just go with it."

* * *

It's times like these when I have no choice but to face whatever the universe throws at me head-on.

I was having a perfectly fine day. That is, if you can call almost dying in a fire 'perfectly fine'. I'm being dramatic, but really, up until now, my life's been on a pretty long streak of no worries. As the age old saying goes, nothing gold can stay, and as I stand here in front of the boogey-woman and her boyfriend, it's clear that this gold mine has run dry.

"I'm having a hard time figuring out what to order, any suggestions?" I don't care what it is, just take it to go. I notice her looking the menu up and down, flipping back and forth through the pages, hoping that by the fifth flip, something new will have caught her eye. Normally, in any other situation, I'd recommend the salmon, because one, it's delicious, and two, it's the second most expensive thing on the menu. If you try and push the most expensive, which I couldn't even describe if I tried, it would send anyone who wasn't filthy rich packing. But this isn't a normal situation, and I remember that she hates seafood, and I hate myself for remembering it.

I raise my right index finger in a 'one second' fashion before walking a few feet away to the table where the menus are located. Ignoring the regular ones, I pull a paper kid's menu from the stack and bring it back, laying it in front of her without saying a word. I don't need to, since I already know what she's going to order.

"I'll have the chicken tenders" Like clockwork. I scribble it down before turning my attention to Zack, but before he has a chance to order, we're interrupted by a third party entering the scene.

"Sora! Buddy, how you doing?" Hayner almost deafens me with his question as he hooks his left arm around my neck in an amiable manner. I don't even reply, mostly because I'm confused, seeing as how Hayner was mostly Roxas's friend, and while we do have a class together and work at the same bistro, we're not insanely close. But my lack of reply doesn't even phase him, and he continues without missing a beat. "Listen man, I just wanna thank you for loaning me that two hundred bucks. I know that's nothing to you, but you really got me out of a pinch there." What the hell is he talking about? Does he even know how rare it is for me to even _have_ two hundred dollars to spare? I shoot him a quizzical look, but he goes on anyways.

"And thanks for tutoring me last weekend, I woulda flunked if it wasn't for you. You're the best, dude." He's gone certifiably mental. I have no idea what he's talking about, and I can't even question it because as sudden as he appeared, he was gone. I glance at the table, and she stares back at me curiously, while Zack keeps his eyes trained on the menu.

"So I see you've finally made use of that brain you have," she jokes. That's laughable. If there's one thing I'm absolutely terrible at, its school, not because I struggle trying to understand the content, but because I truly, honestly cannot get myself to care enough to try to. My brain just isn't wired for it, and maybe if I had any sort of idea of an opposing career path, I'd finally stop wasting my money being in school. But I've got nothing, at least not yet, so here I am. Which brings me to my next question—what the fuck is going on?

"Uh..yeah," I stutter out. "Actually, it's weird because—"

"There's my favorite roommate!" Around the corner emerges Roxas, and his presence tells me all I need to know. Riku, you idiot. Did you really think this was going to work? Roxas approaches the table and nods at the occupants in acknowledgement before looking at me. "Hey, bro, I need my keys. Nam and I are gonna go look for something to replace our 'hole in the wall' situation," he says meekly. Damn right you are. Looks like he wasn't part of Riku's plan, after all. I let out a slight exhale in relief, grab the car keys from my pocket and toss them to my roommate. He catches them in one swift motion, just as he has a million times before.

"Oh, and I know I said you could do whatever you wanted in the car, but you could've at least put a towel down or something." I almost forget how to stand.

"I knew you were gettin' some but I found like three different sizes of panties in the back seat." I hear her almost choke on her water just outside of my eyesight. "Good shit, dude." He slaps me on the back like I just won a little league game, swings the keys into his coat pocket and walks away. I'm frozen, suspended in a state of disbelief, wondering if that really just happened or if I'm going insane. Reluctantly, I look to my customers who are looking right back at me with pure shock on their faces. Any attempt to lie my way out of this would make me look like a dumbass, so I've got one option here, the one Riku presented to me. Looks like I'm going to have to _just_ _go with it_. Deep breath.

"Damn, Roxas," I rub the back of my head sheepishly, "I'm gonna have to talk to him about privacy one of these days." They chuckle in that typical be-nice-to-your-waiter fashion and I decide that it would probably be best to change the topic. "Anyways, like I was saying, plenty of stuff's changed around here. I've been tutoring Hayner twice a week all semester, honestly I'm probably the only reason he's passing right now." It feels weird to talk so highly of myself, even if it's not true. I don't like it.

"Wow, impressive," she tells me, and the conversation continues for a minute. Zack seems less impressed, and proceeds to order a Bistro Burger, likely in an attempt to get me to leave. No complaints here. I close my notepad and place it back into the center pocket of my apron, ready to take my leave, but an unexpected appearance from the 'mastermind' of this moment stops me in my tracks.

"Bro, how are you even functioning right now?" What? I eye Riku skeptically as he approaches from my left side. "Shouldn't you be kneeled over a toilet seat or something?" he lets out a hearty laugh, and since I have no idea what he's referring to, I do the same. He turns to the occupants of the booth, the first of our many visitors to do so, and continues.

"This guy was a monster last night! I've never seen anyone take so many shots in a row and not puke instantly." So this is how we're doing this, huh?

"In all honesty," I start, "I would've tapped right after we shotgunned that 12-pack together, but you know me, it's either go big or go home." It's not entirely out of the realm of truth, as that is something I would say in a situation like that. In this case, though, it just didn't actually happen. It's also ironic because Riku doesn't even drink, but they don't have to know that.

"We gotta go for round two tonight, man." I know he's kidding, but the idea of it kinda gets me thinking about having a round _one_ tonight at the apartment. I laugh and continue the bit.

"I don't know, dude. That might be too much for me to handle." Like a tiger pouncing on its prey, I suddenly feel an intense pressure around my right arm and almost lose my balance.

"Lose that attitude, mister!" It's Rikku. Is she in on this, too? How many people did Riku orchestrate to make an appearance here? I should probably be checking on my other tables at this point, but fuck it. "That wasn't the answer you gave me last night when I asked you the same thing." The implication causes my face to become incredibly warm, and I have no doubt that I'm as red as Axel's hair right now. I look at the booth and, maybe it was just my imagination, but her face seemed to start taking on a slight pink hue as well. She keeps going.

"If you say yes to one Rikku, you say yes to all Rikkus!" she proclaims. I think she fails to realize that her and Riku technically don't actually share a name, but I decide against bursting her bubble. "Besides, your parties are always fun. Regular ones suck 'cause you don't know anyone." She does have a point there. She leans up on her toes a bit and half-whispers into my ear, though loud enough for everyone in the immediate vicinity to hear.

"I'll make it worth your while." The seductive tone in her voice causes every hair on my body to rise. I shiver. She's the most convincing one yet.

"We'll see," I add a slight laugh, "I'll talk to the guys tonight and keep you updated."

"You better," Riku speaks up, "it ain't the same if I'm not pounding drinks with my brothers!" He raises his fist to me, to which I reply by knocking it with mine, and takes his leave.

"Play your cards right," Rikku says on my opposite side, "and drinks won't be the only thing you'll be pounding tonight." This time it's Zack's turn to choke on his water, which I count as a mini-win. Rikku giggles, winks at me, and turns around to head back to the front desk, but not before giving me an unexpected slap on the ass. I almost faint right there for the hundredth time that night.

"Wow," that's Her voice, "It would seem you're pretty popular these days." Any sort of telling-expression I thought I saw on her face before was absent now. I try to focus on her eyes to get a read on her, but I can only do that for so long without looking creepy.

"Yeah, sorry about them," I laugh, "my friends have no boundaries." I see a slight twitch in her smile when I say that. I take a mental note and save it for later. "I'll go put in your order now." They nod and I finally make my long-awaited escape away from the booth.

As the night tredges on, I do whatever I can to minimize my interaction with the devil-table. I've done pretty good, if I do say so myself. I sent Rikku to deliver the salads and bread, and made Hayner keep an eye on their drinks, refilling them when they were low, and giving them whatever they needed so they wouldn't have to ask for me at all. So far there have been no hiccups, but with my luck I'm not so sure how long that'll last.

The constant, erratic dinging coming from the kitchen lets me know that it's time to run their food, a task I have no choice but to carry out myself. Calling out to whoever's on the other side, I make a swift turn around a corner into a small narrow hallway, one side with a counter full of assortments of different meals and plates. The sheer amount of contrasting smells overloads my senses, and I scan the counter until I see the two plates I was looking for. I grab them, turn around, and start to take a deep breath in preparation, when a voice interrupts me.

"Ay, Sora," a gruff, deep voice bellows, "Riku told me yer girly decided to pay ya a visit. That true?" I look through the window and see Cid, an older, scarier man, who is also the head chef at the Bistro. How old? I'm not quite sure, since he never tells anyone, but the scars all over his body and his angry, aggressive demeanor is a sure sign that he's seen some shit. He's nice to me, at least, but get on his bad side and he'll use the bulging muscles he's got left from whatever war he fought in to make you pay. I put the plates of food back on the counter for a second.

"She's not my girl, Cid," just saying those words in that order leaves a bad taste in my mouth. "But yes, she's here." Damn it, Riku, you just can't keep your mouth shut, can you? I guess I only have myself to blame for telling all of my coworkers my life story. He grins like a devil, showcasing his long-since tobacco-stained teeth, and slides the plates I had just put down closer to himself.

"If ya want me to," he begins, "I'd be happy to take 'extra' care of her food for ya." He winks at me and lets out a hearty laugh, followed by an extensive coughing fit. He gives me a serious look, and scratches his beard. "Nothin' too extreme. Wouldn' wanna get caught, would ya? Jus' enough for a lil' payback." He laughs again. As much as I'd like to have the kitchen do whatever they please with Zack's burger, my inner moral compass doesn't allow it. I reach over and slide the plates back to me before Cid makes any executive decisions and pick them up again.

"I appreciate it, Cid, really. Maybe next time, though." He shrugs and goes back to cooking whatever he was cooking, and I take my leave.

When I arrive at table thirty three, the occupants actually looked surprised to see me. I hand them their food and they hand me their empty salad bowls. I make an effort not to look at either of them as we make the exchange, but I can feel her eyes burning into my skin. After a few empty words, I depart from the the table once again and head back to the server station. My apron vibrates and I whip my phone out of the left pocket.

**Roxas: **Rikku told me you said we're getting lit tonight **Now**

**Roxas:** you're bringing the party favors lmao **Now**

**Roxas: **Found an oven btw **Now**

Rolling my eyes, I take note of the time. One more hour until close. One more hour until I'm finally free of this nightmare that I can't seem to wake up from. I keep replaying the moment I had earlier while talking to her. It felt like another dimension entirely. The conversation repeats over and over and I start thinking about everything we said. It gets so bad that my mind keeps looping it continuously, trying out new scenarios and possible realities, in which I say or ask something different each time, eliciting a potential new response from her.

"How's the throwback?" Riku's voice snaps me out of my loop. I turn my attention away from the salads I was making and run a hand through my hair.

"Annoying and never-ending." I reply in an almost monotone voice. He slaps me on the back almost too hard.

"They're almost outta here, bro. Just hold on a bit longer and then it's party time, right?" He does have a point. After tonight I can go back to erasing her from my memory for all eternity.

"I guess you're right," I tell him, "you thinking about making an appearance tonight?" He gives me a face and almost laughs.

"Oh please, a party's the last place you'd ever hope to find me." Another truthful statement. Good old Riku.

Between avoiding table thirty three and taking care of my other customers, the last hour of work flies by, and before I know it, there are five minutes left until close. Understandably, for a Monday night, most occupants have long since gone, giving the employees a chance to get everything closed up for the night earlier than usual. In fact, all of my coworkers have headed home for the night, besides my manager. Why am _I _still here? Because all of my tables have been gone for thirty minutes, save for one—the very same table that's been fucking with my head all night.

It's weird, because I had Hayner give them the check before he left twenty minutes ago, and yet they're still just sitting there, Zack looking visibly agitated and she..she just looks like she's waiting for something. I can see them through the window of the wall separating two sides of the restaurant, and while they exchange words here and there, the conversation doesn't seem to be too lively. After what feels like an eternity, I see her finally lift some cash out of her purse and leave it on the check. I'm hit with a wave a relief, because I don't have to run a card, thus I don't have to talk to them anymore at all! My mental celebration is cut short as they stand up from the booth, causing me to quickly duck behind the wall of the server station. I stay positioned until I hear the ding of the door opening and let go of a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

With the restaurant empty, I can at last finish cleaning up and finally get out of this place. There's not much left to do, which I guess is a perk of being the last one here, but when I bus the table, I notice the amount of money she left. Thirty dollars when the check was fifteen? Is she trying to pity me or something? Slightly angered, I finish wiping the table, close out my tickets, and leave the extra fifteen in the tip jar at the front desk for the hosts on my way out.

* * *

I still hate the Starlight Square Light Show.

It's bright, it's obnoxious, and the crowds of people "ooh"-ing and "ahh"-ing are hardly anything but corny. You'd think the last thing I'd ever want to do is _watch _it, but here I am, sitting on the roof of an empty restaurant, legs over the edge, taking in the view of the entire square. It _is _beautiful, there's no doubt about that. Everything about Destiny Islands is. Still, as the hourly light show begins, I decide to pop in my earbuds and press play on the album _Last Summer_ by Barnes Blvd. I see the millions of LEDs spring to life, starting first in a ring at the center of Starlight. Then, that ring turns off, and a new, slightly larger ring forms closer to me. The pattern continues until I'm almost blinded by the lights that appear on the street that the Bistro is located, and I turn around and watch the ring making its way behind me all the way to the end of the square. Some annoying pop song shakes the ground beneath me, and I turn up the volume of my headphones in effort to drown it out. After about thirty seconds, a new, crazier pattern involving all of the LED lights starts, and from that point on it's just a mess of music and color, a mess that everyone loves to see. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a small green and white cardboard box. I run my fingers over the black, bolded letters in the center: _Marlboro_.

Gasp! What am I doing? Surely I'd never do something as nasty and life-poisoning as putting _tobacco_ into my body. That shit rots you from the inside out! Well, it's true, I wouldn't ever do something like that, but the box does come in handy. When I open it, I'm met with two rows of five small paper cylinders. Upon closer inspection, it's clear that these papers hold something much less poisonous, and much more green.

I know what you're thinking. Drugs are bad, marijuana is the devil, I'm a terrible person and a no-life who isn't going anywhere or going to be anything. And while I don't disagree that drugs are bad, let's just get something straight. When you go to a party, how much do you drink? When you're running late and don't have time to cook, what do you eat? When you have free time to do whatever you want to do, do you use the time to improve yourself, go to the gym, meditate, or study? Or do you watch funny videos online for hours or binge watch an entire series in one night?

We fill our minds and bodies with so much shit on a daily basis, and we think it's perfectly fine because it makes us feel good and everyone does it. Now, I won't speak for anything else, but the stigma against cannabis is so ridiculous it's almost funny. I can't use a naturally growing medicine, but you can down six shots and a twelve-pack at the office New Year's party and end up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. I can't wake up in the morning, clear my mind with something that was legalized my senior year of high school, and mentally prepare myself for the challenges that may come that day, but you can order two burgers, a large fry, and a slushie in the drive through? Who's the actual unhealthy one? I could go on, but that's not what this moment is about. Looking out at the millions of different colored lights in front of me, and sparking up one of the joints from the cigarette box, there's only one thing on my mind, and that's Her.

It's not even tonight that I think about. Seeing her in person for the first time in who knows how long brought back every single memory that I shared with her. Every moment of joy, nervousness, excitement, fear, and ultimately heartbreak. The colors of the lights dissolve from the streets and start flowing upwards, towards the sky.

The stars pale in comparison to the different hues slithering around, like colored snakes or worms trying their hardest to avoid touching the stars, weaving around each one, until suddenly they begin to take shape. I see a boy, outlined in blue. I see a girl, outlined in red. Greens and yellows and oranges flow around them like wind, forming an ever-changing backdrop for the characters. First they're placed in a bright blue car, but then the car melts into an enormous green field, with trees making up the horizon far off in the distance. Waves of pink and yellow and red and orange and hints of violet swirled around over them. A concentration of amber and orange and gold took on the shape of a setting sun, and just as fast as the scene came to life, it dissipates into nothing.

The girl's red outline quickly becomes whole again, and slowly, the blue of what was once the boy starts to form again into his figure. It's taking longer than usual, and the girl starts to walk away. The boy tries to chase after her, but the colors making up his outline are taking too long to take shape, slowly melting away at the same time that they're building. He keeps tripping over himself, falling over because his feet and legs are liquifying beneath him. The girl outline gets farther and farther, but the boy keeps lifting himself up, and with so much determination and sheer willpower, holds his blue outline together. As the shape becomes more and more apparent, the color gets darker and darker until it was less like a blue sky and more along the lines of the depths of the ocean. His fragile outline trembles and quivers with each step he takes, but it doesn't phase him. He takes off running, finally catching up with the girl. The second he approaches her, he reaches out to grab her, and the color of her outline explodes, bits and pieces of red flying in every direction.

The boy's arm falls to his side, finally allowing his shaky outline to dissolve, but rather than melt away, it hardens. Instead of liquifying like before, it fossilizes, eventually becoming so brittle that it breaks away and disintegrates into the wind.

A few seconds go by, and then slowly, one by one, the stars in the sky start moving around, flying in circles. Every time one star made contact with another, they stuck together. They zoom around sporadically until there was just a large blank spot in the night sky, devoid of any light, and the clump of stars that had been formed melts down and becomes a new outline, the same boy from before, but now white instead of blue. As more and more white starts to fill the empty space, the scene starts to become apparent. The boy, outlined in white, sitting on top of a building, staring at the sky.

It's at this moment that I feel a deep, throbbing pain inside of my chest. My stomach starts turning and it becomes hard to breathe. I try to take a deep breath and close my eyes, and when I open them again, the sky had returned back to normal. I sit up from my laid-down position and look at the streets of Starlight Square. The LEDs were off, the only lights now coming from either the buildings or the cars. I notice smoke rising from a few spots around the square, which makes sense because the light show always ends with fireworks. Picking up my phone, it seems I've been asleep for the past twenty minutes. Roxas texted me two more times about the party tonight, but I ignore him and stand up. After a quick stretch, I hop over the side of the building and climb down the ladder to the street behind the bistro.

On the walk home, I try not to think about her or anything about her. It might be true that nothing really interesting has happened in my life since her, but I'd take a boring life over a miserable one any day. The walk is usually a long one, but tonight I have so much on my mind that I reach my street in what feels like five minutes. It's pretty hard to think about anything else, unfortunately, but I should just be grateful that it's over already. Now, I can just go back to this morning, my regular life with my regular friends. I walk down the street and observe the people around me as I pass them. I think about how they have their own lives, with their own tragic backstories to ponder on the walk home. They've all got friends, hopes, and fears just like I do. Maybe I shouldn't let things affect me the way they do, because others probably have it much worse than me. But pain is subjective. One person's pain can come from something completely different than another person, but it hurts all the same, because pain is pain and trauma is trauma. Whether it's a pebble or a boulder, throw it in the water and you ruin the reflection.

All of these people around me could have potentially come from anywhere in the world. It's insane to think that there's an entire planet beyond these Islands, but when you're living in a literal paradise, it's hard to even think about anywhere else. In a place so rich with history and beauty, most people who are from here never even leave.

As I get closer to the apartment, the sound of music gradually gets louder, and part of me gets excited, because I think I'm about to have a night I'll never forget, but that part of me gets quickly extinguished when I see who's sitting on the front concrete steps of my apartment building, and I realize that I _will _have a night I'll never forget. It's her. She's sitting right there.

Destiny Islands really does have an expansive history and population, but personally it's only as big as my social circle, and since we've all lived on the main island our entire lives, I've never had a reason to venture out anywhere else. Why would I? If you lived in an absolute paradise, with everything you could ever need in the entire world, you'd have no reason to leave, no reason to go running off towards "something better".

Unless, of course, you were actually running _away_ from something.

Isn't that right..

..Xion?


End file.
